Promises
by major-fangirl-in-here17
Summary: Isabel Soto, many didn't know about her, until her father drags her to a World meeting. This causes a downhill of events; from her kidnapped daughter, to finding out that America stole their children. Watch her life change for the turn of the worse, and how her family and friends piece her back together. (Blind!Mexico. Warnings inside. Modern AU! Human names used.)
1. Chapter 1

_**Warnings! Under-aged drinking and drug usage, panic attacks, attempted murder, one-sided relationships, mental disorders, blind people, horrid treatment to others, bullying, and utter completer wack. And I am not saying this again. It's the only warning you get, so if you have/get feelzy for anything of this, and yell at me later is not my fault after this chapter.**_

**I know that most of you don't not want to even lay eyes on this rant, but it is necessary. This is Mexico, so expect a lot of Spanish. Long sentences in Spanish. So, while reading this, have something like, oh I don't know, Google translate close by, or ask nicely for me to translate these sentences. For that to happen I need at least 5 people to ask me. Also, if the dialogue seems funny, it is okay. In Spanish that is how dialoge is written, so you have to get used to it. Rant over, continue reading.**

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><p>People say that blindness leads to weakness.<p>

That was never my case.

I learned to use my other senses to guide me in my immortal life. My fingers can now "see" colors through them. My ears can distinguish the smallest of sounds, like the beating of hearts from each person.

However, being in a loud environment renders me useless.

One of these places include the airport of Adolfo Suarez Madrid-Barajas, in the middle of the city of Madrid, Spain. I strained my ears to listen for anyone in familiar, but I had no luck.

One shout brought that luck back around.

"¡Oye! ¿Dónde estas?"

Excuse me, my manners have slipped through my mind right now. Must be the noise in the airport. My name is Isabel Soto, but you can call me La Mexicana, or Mexico as many of you English speakers know. The voice was my papí, Antonio Fernandez-Carriendo, or Spain.

"¡Aquí! ¡Aquí estoy!"

I shout throwing my hand up in the air, hoping that by some miracle he does not lose me a-mist the ocean of people. In what seemed an eternity of standing in the chaos, I was greeted by strong, soothing arms and a familiar heartbeat.

"¡Dios Mio! I thought I lost you!" I quipped, A deep rumble erupted from his chest.

"I wouldn't lose you just like that. Plus, Roma would be mad if I would have lost you!" he replies, smoothing out some of my stray hairs, careful to leave the small, unruly curl, located at the top of my head, alone.

"Wait! He is here? Where?"

"Back at home. Now come on, we need to get back home, in order to make it back in time."

He took hold of the large suitcase, while I dragged my smaller suitcase behind. His unoccupied hand took hold of my own as he guided me through who knows where. We stopped momentarily, the sound of a door opening reaching my ears. He guided me into a seat, and cautiously buckled a strap of leather across my shoulder. A while passed, most likely that he was loading the luggage somewhere, before I hear a door opening to my left, a sigh, a snap of something into place, and a jangle of metal. Something clicked into my head, making me realize where we were at the moment.

"¿Me metiste en un automobile, verda?" I growled.

"Sí, y se que no te gustan," he replies.

"Whatever, so what are we doing later anyway?"

He goes into detail as of what we, oops I mean he, was planning. He had called a meeting, between many of the major countries, to introduce, well me. Only a handful of people know that I am Mexico. He tells me that he was invited a couple of friends before hand, so I can get familiar with them.

"Okay, that is enough. Now tell me, please, how the landscape is."

He begins to rant again how the streets look like, his favorite places, the one pub in which he got a fight with one of his drunken friends, and so forth. I begin to imagine every situation he tells me, laughing at the idiotic things he has done with his old age. Before long, the car ride of hell was over.

More sounds filled my ears, telling me exactly what was going on. My dad getting out of the car, him taking out the luggage, him opening the door, helping me with my seatbelt and grabbing my hand, helping me out of the car. My nose was greeted by the smell of familiar fruit and delicate pastry my dad once taught me before I was cursed by this horrid blindness. I took careful steps against the stone walkway leading to my dad's house, hoping that I wouldn't make myself look stupid in front of his friends. A creak of metal tells me that the door to the front, or back, had opened.

"¡Hola! ¡Ya llege!" Toni yells. The house remained silent. Then a voice caused my veins to go ice cold.

"Bounjuor! You are here! And who may this pretty mademoiselle be?"

_Nope, nope nope, nope this can't be happening!_ I thought to myself. The man who caused me and my family so much pain on that fateful day of May 5, is nothing more than my father's friend.

The man who caused me to lose my eyesight, and the last time in which I saw my family and horrid destruction with them.

"Who i-is h-he?" I stuttered with fear. I felt as if my papi looked at me with a que-te-pasa-estas-loca kind of face.

"Chamaca, ponte atenta, que este hombre parado enfrente de ti es mi buen amigo Francis Bonnefóy, ó comó muchos lo conocen, Francía."

I felt my own blood drain from my face. They seemed to notice right away.

"¿Mi amor, what's wrong?" came the innocent question out of my father's lips.

My fear was instantly replaced by anger.

"Really? You ask me if I am okay, when you put the man who caused me to go blind, who ATTACKED MY DAMN COUNTRY," I inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly trying not to let my temper get the best of me, "in which he almost murdered one of your grand-kids, in which I sacrificed myself, my eyesight," I finish, venom dripping heavily from my lips.

I heard his heart pump furiously.

"It was you all of this time," he pauses, "we will need to talk later, France," he finished, adding emphasis in the word France. Another set of footsteps walked into the room.

"Kesesesesese! France is in trouble. Und, who is this?"

"I am La Mexicana, and you must be my father's friend. Do come closer." I insist.

"Kesesese! I see, I am zhe awesome Pru- I mean Gilbert," he replied, while walking in my direction.

"Oh, so you are Prussia. Now if you can only crouch a bit, okay that is perfect," I instructed, in which he followed sluggishly. Slowly, I placed both of my hands on his cheeks, moving my way around his face.

"Why are you doing this?" he murmured, heat seeping through his cheeks.

"Bueno, how do you think I can guess how you look like, idiota?" Now what color are your eyes? I whispered back.

"Red," he finished.

I took a step back, and built his face in my mind. as far as what I see, he does not seem that old, maybe twenty-five at most, subtle cheekbones, a glimpse of some pallid strands of hair, cocky smile, and to finish it off, those ruby eyes.

"So I am guessing that jou are blind, nein?"

I sighed. "Unfortunately, yes, by the idiot you see there," I clucked.

"Potato bastard, where are you!" fast paced footsteps came rushing in to this room. Panting was stopped short, only for me to get attacked from an unknown person.

"Ciao bella! I didn't think you would have a made it!" a heavily accented Italian voice reached my ears.

"¡Hola Roma!" I squealed back, taking him into a tight embrace. His body stiffened, not prepared for the reaction I would of had, but soon melted into the embrace.

"Are you ready to go kick some butt later?"

"Let me at least get settled first before ass gets kicked. Roma can you show me to my room?"

"Sure. Just give me a minute to get your things."

Noises were heard throughout the room, mostly footsteps and wheels rolling around on the floor, then someone's arm hooked at my elbow, dragging me to who knows where in the house. I ended up tripping over my own feet, being dragged carelessly through hallways.

"Watch where your going idiota!" I huff, trying to catch up to the man before me. He suddenly stopped, before opening a door, leading to what I believe is going to be my guest room for this weekend. Romano pushed me inside, bringing the suitcase with him. He shut the door immediately after that.

"Okay, Roma, since I do not trust anyone in the house besides you and papá, you need to help me get ready for later."

"What? Do I look like some type of chaperon to you, idiota?" he retorted

"Did I ask you, idiota? No, so get me my large suitcase." I command, taking off the sweatshirt I had on. I was sure that he began to blush when I lazily removed my shirt, leaving my torso exposed.

"Here it is, anything else you need?" he stuttered. A pregnant pause followed, causing an uncomfortable silence between the both of us.

I cleared my throat, awkwardly noting the situation that I had created.

"Sorry about that," I tell him, "can you get me my blue dress that I have in there. After that, you can leave."

Judging by the amount of noise being made, he was glad that I had offered him that option. He handed me the piece of cloth in my hand, and hastily walked out the door.

When the door closed behind him, I began to prepare myself, physically and mentally, for what was about to come.

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><p><strong>So now that you are at the end, need to tell you something else. I modeled much of Isabel's character power thing from Iggy (no not this Iggy) off of Maximum Ride. Follow,favorite, and review! Bye!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

What is this feeling?

This feeling is new, something that does not feel good.

I believe it is called being claustrophobic.

I really had never been in a situation in which I felt claustrophobic. Maybe now because I am sitting between the Prussian guy and the French bastard. Yeah best place to be, especially in a car.

Romano decided that he would join our little group, huffing that he would be there for my support only, though I am sure that he is going for more than just me. He just does not care to admit it.

The passengers remained silent for a good portion of the ride, until I asked a horrible question that was about to test my sanity.

"¿Èl va estár allí?"

This man that I have mentioned, is in fact my ex, another country. Whom he allegedly decided to proclaim war on me, while taking away our child when he was barely able to talk.

"Lo malo es que sí, si va estár allí," dad replies, growling through his teeth.

Bueno, lo que paso, paso.

"Ahora sí, ese fregado va a ver de lo que estoy hecha, pendejo," I seethe through my teeth. The people sitting next to me jumped a bit out of their respective seats, scooting closer to the door, trying to get as far way from me as possible. I don't blame them, my temper does get the best of me. However, I swore I heard one of them squeak under their breath:

"She is just like Russia!"

I had no clue on who the hell this Ruso character may be, or how my temper is just like him.

Thank goodness for the fact that the meeting hall was in fact along Calle Gran Via, in Madrid, about a twenty minute drive. In fact, leaving the car proved that the nations following in the back were scared out of their wits.

My father, being the host of the meeting, had to arrive much earlier than any of the other countries, to make sure all of the other countries had the right commodities and the right paper work ready for each of them in their native languages. He managed to push me in a seperate room, making Romano and Prussia stay for company.

Noises made their way from the other side of the door, I'm guessing that the chefs are preparing the food for the others. Naturally, the cook in me craved, longed to be in the kitchen.

"Hey, La Mexicana, or whatever you name is, what do we do, while everyone gets here?"

"Well, I did bring something that might keep us from getting bored," I grin.

Time to show them who I am, and what I can do.

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><p><strong>Third Person PoV<strong>

Shreaks and laughter were what Spain could faintly hear through the large building. He would have gone and checked what the commotion was about, but was interrupted when _he_ walked into the room.

"¡Hola Spain! Watcha doin'?" said country asked.

The Spainard tried him very hardest not to punch the damn American in front of him. He clenched his fists quietly.

He decided that it was best for him if he kept up with his usual attitude

"¡Hola America! How are you?" he greeted cheerfully.

'All set and ready to go with some awesome ideas about.."

Spain dared not to listen to the American's chatter, for he knew that he will end up punching him in his gulf regions, and he was not about to kick his ass. Well at least not yet.

Minutes turned into hours, and finally everyone had arrived, it was time for the meeting to begin.

It was until about half-way through the meeting when things began to go awry. First thing was when a nation's cell phone had gone off.

"Tè estoy engañando con otra, ya estoy aca en el hotel," it rang loudy, bouncing off the wall. Many of the Latin-American countries stared at the man fumbling to retrieve and answer the phone, wondering why on earth he would have that of all ringtones playing.

"Weird, it's an unkown number," he mumbles. He picks up the phone, "Hello, hero speaking."

A female voice was faintly heard from the line. A blush crept along his pale face, along with a string of words jumbled together. More female voices joined into the other end of the line, making Alfred even redder than what he had been before.

The British man knew that something was wrong, but he was not about to admit it.

The call abruptly ended with him yelling at the electronic device, "¡No! ¡No quiero nada!"

The Spanish speaking countries were freaking out with that phone call. They knew who had made that phone call, but what worried them was where the hell that person was, and with whom she was with.

"What the bloody hell was that about, eh?" the British man ask the American.

Alfred shrugged. "Nothing really important, I guess."

Everyone stared back to the host of the meeting, and with his sweet smile he answered, "He might have gotten lucky tonight."

The other nations just sat there, mouths gaping like a fish out of the water. Alfred's blush returned worse than Romano's will ever be, and Russia, well, he was just chilling with that creepy smile on his face.

Not long after that stamement, two figures busted into the room.

They just happened to be Romano and Prussia, soaked to the bone.

"Idiota, why would you put us with her!"

"Yes were jou trying to kill us or something?"

"Calmado vos. What happened?" The Spaniard tried to keep his emotions in check, which proved to be a difficult task.

Damn did they look hilarious.

"She brought fucking water guns, that is what fucking happened!" Romano hollered. Silence ensued after that.

That was when everyone heard them.

Footsteps were faintly heard from the other side of the door.

"Verdamntt, she's coming! What do we do?" Gilbert whispered with much urgency laced into his frantic voice.

"¿Dónde están pendejos? Stop being such sissies and get your ass out from your damn hiding spot!" A feminine voice growled, getting closer to the door.

Antonio thought of something delightfully devilish, knowing well that he might get beat up for after.

"¡Hola hija! Aqui estoy, ven," he called out in the direction of the door.

The people who were hiding in the room, gave him the look which set his fate with them.

Damn, it was worth it.

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><p><strong>By the way, the song used as the ringtone is by Calibre50 <strong>**_Te estoy engañando con otra._**


	3. Chapter 3

**Still in Third Person**** PoV**

Double doors busted opened, revealing a ginger woman in a simple blue sun dress and flats, holding a water gun in one hand, and a small book in the other.

"Hi papí! Have you seen-," she stopped short when her face turned to where her targets were located.

"¡Hola! You missed me?" she asked in a bittersweet tone.

"I fucking hate you tomato bastard!" Romano would yell, and escape to the other side of the room. She would have gone chasing after him, but her father pulled her back.

"Hija, your manners?"

"Perdon papí," she then muttered and then took a seat next to where Spain was sitting, placing her items on the table.

Only to then promptly get back up and run to the American's chair.

"Girl,you look mighty fine today," he would utter, this voice turning husky with the last syllable of the sentence.

She would reply a way many of the countries did not rely on.

She slapped him hard across the face, and pushed him hard, making him topple out of his chair. The stare he gave her afterwards would be one she would have remembered for the next decade: a face of confusion. However she is blind so that may not happen.

"¿Ahora te haces del que no sabe nada, vera? Oh, but you should remember me Alfie, don't you?" she purred. His face turned into a nice shade of red.

"Oh hell, to the no! It was you!"

"Yeah it was me," she continued, whispering in his ear, "I was the one who called you. But you already know me from a long time ago," she paused.

"All of you know me! I recognise about three-fourths of the heartbeats here! Half of it being my brother and sisters, so I am only left with one-fourth whom heartbeats I recognize. The other fourth are bizarre and new to me," she called out.

The others seemed dumbfounded that this mortal woman, walk in and say that almost all of the people in here are familiar to her, and what the heck does she mean by heartbeats?

"Okay, I get it. I tend to forget that the world is so damn ignorant! I am La Mexicana, otherwise known as the country of Mexico! Now get out of your damn chair and get in a damn line so I can get a closer look on how each of you look like! And for fuck's sake, I'm blind! Blame the French dude who has a death threat by at least 30 damn countries, and all of my children!"

Her sudden outburst had everyone standing up for their turn to get seen by this woman nation, except those that she already knew. Those she would greet with a hug, unless they were France or America. They were too starstruck by her outburst that they were stuck with fear.

The first one up whom she did not recognize was England. He was hell of a damn nervous by this damn woman. More so after the shocked look America wore after her confession.

"Okay, I need you to do two things. One of them is telling me your eye color and your representation of whatever country you represent. And please, keep your damn face still, it messes up my image. So whoever is in front of me, ¿por favor?"

England took this as a cue, and gulped, afraid as of what this woman would do. "The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, but England would be just fine," he stammered, "my eyes are a lime green."

The next thing she did was totally unexpected by what Arthur had in his mind. She slowly placed her hands on his shoulders, working her way up to his face. Thin calloused fingers worked their way around the small dips and bumps around his face, tippy-toeing up to the top of his head. Once she finished, she glomped him fiercely.

He was taken aback by her sudden action, standing still, afraid that she might tip both of them over.

"¡Súegro! I thought I would never meet you! Oh my god! I am your son's ex-wife!"

"What! Alfred F. Jones!" he hollered. Alfred gave him a sheepish grin, placing his hand on his neck.

"I'm sorry?" he asked. Arthur gave him the we-will-talk-later- look.

"Whatever next!"

The list went on, she began to realize how many people were in these meetings. A good hour had passed by when she finally reached to last person. Last said person, happened to be everyone's favorite country, Russia. **(A/N As in my fangirl universe)**

"I am Russia!" he said, his creepy aura surrounding him immediately after he said his sentence.

"Wait! I think I know you! Yeah I do! Remember how that one day in 1942 when Germany attacked you and how I had to come over? Then I had my original brown eyes and obsidian hair. Yeah it was you! Mucho tiempo sin verte Rusia."

Of course Russia was surprised. He didn't recognize her from the past, yet she recognizes him.

So, as the narrator would say it: Like what the fuck is going on?

After a moment of silence , she looked around and asked, "Any questions?"

America was the first one to blurt out, "What happened that made you change your appearance? What did you do to change your so called obsidian hair into you fiery hair?"

"I am so glad you asked that! Because papí does not even know, and he hasn't been too in touch since the past century or so. I will show you."

She grabbed the book laying on the table and flipped to a page. She began to mutter words no one understood, and the magic began to happen. Her fiery red hair changed to black, while her green eye changed back to brown. The realization hit everyone harder that a moving truck.

"Da, I do recognise you," Russia motioned to the changed woman standing in front on them. "Welcome back Mexico."

Poor Alfred. He just became more utterly confused.

Before any more questions were asked, another phone began to ring. Antonio pulled up his phone, and nearly threw it back down with the loud voice.

"Okay, ahorita te la paso," he muttered.

He handed it over to Isabel. She places it next to her ear, listening attentively, until;

"¿Como qué no está?"

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><p><strong>Bamm! Hey guess who's back! What do you think I might write for the next chappie! Comment you ideas on this chapter!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

_**Today I have realized I have done a terrible thing xD. No Hetalia character is mine, because if they were, LietPol would have totally been canon by now. Also, Gabriel, personification of Texas, and the personifications of Nevada, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Utah, Colorado, and Wyoming are not mine. Those belong to the fanfabulous Kitten1313. Check her out!**_

_**Without furthur ado, the story!**_

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><p><strong>Isabel PoV<strong>

I see my father speak to someone on the phone, and I immediately stood up. Something is going on at home, since only my brother calls when an emergency happens. He passes the phone over to me, in which I snatch it out of his grasp, and place it next to my hear.

That was when the bombshell fell.

"¿Comó que no está?"

My brother just told me that one of my children is not there. Kidnapped.

"Do you have any clue where she is?" I ask. My brother sighed.

"Perdón manita, but your children are looking for her, and they believe that she went on a field trip with 43 other classmates. We will get back to you on her soon. Adíos," he dismissed himself.

I collapsed to my knees, she couldn't have gone missing, not now! The holidays were so close, four months away. She was just there with me on my birthday.

"Hija, are you okay?" I hear a faint voice ask me. The pressure in my skull is unbearable. I collapse to my knees, clutching my head. I feel liquid poor out of my nose.

"Someone, get a doctor!" was the last thing I remember.

I was caught in a eternal abyss, waiting for the light to return to my eyes.

Figure of speech by the way, remember?

It took me a while to focus my hearing, sluggishly listening to faint heartbeats around me.

"Are you okay? Oh mein gott," a familiar voice asked in concern.

"Bruder, she'll be okay," a deeper voice mumbled.

"I think she is coming to," yet another voice spoke.

"¿Què pasa?" I slurred.

"She's awake!" one voice shouted in relief.

Then, I remembered.

"Where is my daughter? ¡Hija!"

I shouted frantically for her, slashing my arms around so get out of the way from the people surrounding me. I tried to get up, yet stumbled from the headache eating away at my brain.

"Isabel, calm down, please," the man kneeling next to me explained. That must be the doctor, yet he sounds so familiar. Might as well ask him.

"How the fuck do you know my name?" I managed to muster out of my mouth.

"Mom, do you not recognize your own son?"

"¿Gabriel, eres tu?"

"Sí, bueno, ¿piensas que ando haciendo nada durate el día? I have a degree to work in the ER, so I kind of have a right to be here."

"How the fuck are you in Spain?"

"I'm on a little tour with my girlfriend, when abuelo called me, saying that you were coming to the meeting, so he asked if I can be here for emotional support."

"And may I have the pleasure to meet my daughter-in-law?"

The room fell silent from all noise, in which it frightened me, for the feelings of anger imbedded deeply within one individual.

Namely, it had to be my foe.

"Ay caramba, no puede ser," I spoke, scratching the top of my head, while Gabriel helped me up, "mira m'ijo, I think that you might be dating French bastard's daughter. But, I think she will be a good woman for you, conste que she doesn't try to kill you."

I hear his ringing laughter echo across the room.

"Ay 'ama, you crazy! She is really sweet, and nothing compared to her father. Back to the present, who has gone missing?"

I began to hyperventilate.

Again.

Geez, I really need to visit my psychologist soon. Like right now.

"María Elena is gone!"

I feel some of the other countries stare at me, as if they thought there was at least another ten Maria's in my family.

Which is not really true, there is only three of them.

"Guerrero, geez is it that difficult?"

The room remained silent.

Until one person spoke.

"I vill help jou to find jour daughter," Gilbert spoke.

"And so will I," another man, whom's name is Roderich I believe, also spoke out.

I felt my heart soar with those words.

"I'l get my brothers and my tía to help," Gabriel confirmed to me.

With that my heart fell with a thump.

"I don't want your stupid American brothers to help me! They are all some lazy, good-for-nothing people!" I raged.

"No, not those American brothers, the Mexican-American brothers. Ma' did Pa never tell you?"

"Tell me what?" I inquire, the curiosity getting the best of me.

Let's hope I manage to make it through before I am at my breaking point.

"Your children never died at birth. He took them away from you once they were born," he casually finished off.

Well fuck.

"Gabriel! That was a secret, you dumb fuck! How dare you!"

"What? She was bound to find out someday!"

I was too numb to even speak. This was far too much news for me to handle in less than ten minutes.

Stupid American bastard. Stupid police force.

I was blinded with white rage and I can't seem to remember what happened next.

Again.

Someone get my psychologist here as soon as possible, please? Before someone dies.

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><p><strong>Third PoV<strong>

Fists began to rain everywhere, most of them coming from the raging, bloodthirsty, mother.

America was scared out of his wits. He had never seen her this distressed. He noted that this was something different than before, when he had been called by Elíseo to help calm down the raging Mexican due to the revolting occurring in the nation's government.

How the fuck were they supposed to help her calm down?

"Move back. The awesome me will handle it!" the Prussian man exclaimed, pretty damn sure that he was about to fail.

But hey, he had to do something before someone would die. Not that he had a problem with it, but the had experienced too much bloodshed already.

_Let's hope that this works,_ he prayed silently.

He gave the Spaniard a thumbs up, and the Spaniard ran off to a separate room. Soft music began to play from the hidden apeakers across the room, spoken lyrics filling the room like butterflies.

" Daría lo que fuera por volverte a ver, daría hasta mi vida y mi fusil, mis botas y mi fe," the song continued.

The lyrics was mixed with guitars and drums and had made the woman to suddenly stop, and she began to listen to the music. Her body began to relax, swaying back and forth, as if moving with the beat.

Gilbert tried to reach for Isabel before she would collapse on the floor.

She had other plans.

Faster than a cheetah was Isabel able to pull out a pistol from a hidden pocket within her dress, aiming it straight at Gilbert's heart.

Only then did he truly realized the stated she was in.

Her eyes were glossed over, anger bleeding through them, like open wounds to her soul.

Eerily enough, her eyes were changing back and forth from the normal emerald, to a blood red.

Her hands began to shake violently, lowering themselves slowly. Her intent stare, however, never lost eye contact with Gilbert.

He tried to reach for the gun in her hands, without losing eye contact with his opponent.

Another quick move caused the gun to swing, and aim at someone unforeseen by anyone.

Bamm! The gun was fired, and figure fell to the floor, a pool of blood surrounding the open wound.

"ISABEL!" the voice of a man screeched as her lifeless body fell to the floor.

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><p><strong>I, comepletely being honest, had no clue how this chapter would end up. Hopefully that would be the last chapter to have a cliff-hanger like that. Hopefully, but no promises. Hehe. Oh and the song is called Volverte a Ver by Juanes<strong>


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